by Reed, N. C.
Clay found himself wishing for logging equipment as he contemplated how much wood they needed to cut. At times like this, losing the Webb family hurt even more. All of them had been hard workers, and he was sure Sammy and Luke still would be once they were on their feet again. For now, it would just be John and Seth helping the rest of them fell trees and drag them to the mill. The limbs that were trimmed from the trees would be cut up for firewood and kindling.
The problem, as usual, was one of manpower. While there were plenty of people on the farm, the number of people physically able to do something like cutting trees was limited, and among that number it was mostly members of the security team. After the most recent attack there was no way to leave off security even for a day, so things would move more slowly than anyone would have liked, but they would move.
It was a good start to a good plan.
-
“Bossman, Bossman, this is Home Plate. Come back.”
Clay barely heard the radio over the sound of the chain saw mill and had to step away to reply.
“Go for Bossman.”
“Need you at Plate,” JJ's voice was clearer now. It sounded. . .off. “Right away,” the teen added.
“Plate, are we in an emergency?” Clay asked, frowning.
“Negative, but you are urgently needed at Plate,” JJ replied.
“On my way,” Clay assured him and started that way. Urgently? He'd not heard that exact phrase from any of them before. What could be so urgent and still not be classed as an emergency? He mulled that question over all the way to the radio room without reaching an answer. As he stepped inside he instantly realized why they had called him.
“. . .no question that the Lord has visited upon this Earth the retribution we so richly deserved, punishing the wicked for their transgressions against His holy word as well as those who allowed it! Those of us who remain, having survived the vicious days of the wicked and the unholy, are those who have been chosen by the hand of God Himself as worthy to inherit this Earth, just as prophecy has always said, and to finish cleansing this world of the wickedness that has led to our. . ..”
“When did you start getting this?” Clay asked, looking at JJ.
“Five minute or so,” he looked at the digital clock they kept in the radio room. “I'm recording it,” he added, pointing to a CD deck with a blinking red light.
“Has he said who he is or where he's at?” Clay asked.
“Not that I've heard,” JJ was shaking his head. “He might have mentioned it before I found it,” he added.
“Where did you find it?” Clay asked, looking at the display.
“It's on the AM band,” JJ pointed. “But much stronger than it should be,” he frowned. “It's Longwave.”
“What do you mean?”
“Standard AM radio bands for America are known as Medium Wave broadcasts, like the AM radio in a car or truck,” JJ explained. “Running from five twenty or five thirty kilohertz up to about seventeen hundred. This one is pinging at two ten, way below that. Longwave is used but normally it's restricted to places like Africa, where there's not nearly as much interference. One of the reasons it wasn't used in America anymore was that it's too susceptible to interference. And it's a little close to a lot of military frequencies too.”
“Is that how you found it?” Clay asked.
“No, I was scanning the entire AM band,” JJ shook his head. “Honestly just as something to do and... .and maybe just sort of hoping to hear something,” he admitted.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Clay gave the teen a reassuring shoulder pat. “Look, keep recording this and listen to see if he gives away his location at all. Or a name. Anything at all like that. This guy sounds like a nut case, so I'd like to know how close he is to us.”
“Well, using Longwave he can broadcast for hundreds of kilometers,” JJ mused thoughtfully. “Or, he could be next door. Thing is, LF and VLF, which are forms of Longwave, are used to bounce signals sometimes for thousands of kilometers. The Navy even uses VLF to penetrate through saltwater to call subs.”
“We used it in Africa to call in when we couldn't use our satellite equipment,” Clay nodded, beginning to understand JJ's confusion. “This isn't just a normal broadcast.”
“Well, nothing about what this guy is saying is normal, that's true,” JJ made a face. “But. . .there are people who use this stuff, even here at home. Missionaries use it for one, sending messages all over the world to areas where they might have access to receivers that can catch it. They're more likely to use actual Shortwave, but some of them even use both. They used to use Longwave to update international clocks and -,”
“JJ, you're getting above what I can retain,” Clay sighed. “While my niece and nephew speak your language, I really don't. Sorry.”
“Hey man, we all got our talents,” JJ shrugged, sounding very grown up suddenly. “I couldn't protect this place from bad guys like you do. It evens out so long as we all do what we're best at.”
Clay just looked at him for a minute, taking in what the kid had told him. He had made an excellent point that too many adults were passing over.
“You're right, JJ,” he said finally. “If we all do what we can, we’ll make it. Back to this, though,” Clay pointed to the radio, “I take it that this Longwave stuff isn't something that would just be casually lying around, right?”
“No way, man,” JJ was shaking his head. “Like I said, people here use it, there's even a radio club for it I think, but it's rare. Actual broadcast slots for it are rarer still because there aren't many. It's a narrow band. And I don't have to tell you how possessive the military is about their frequencies,” he grinned slightly.
“No,” Clay laughed at that. “No, you don't. Alright. Keep your ear out and keep recording. If we have to we’ll set up another receiver just for the Reverend here and keep recording. He might say something we can use or at least get something out of.”
“Got it.”
-
“A religious broadcast?” Gordon frowned.
“Well, more like a zealot's broadcast, but yeah,” Clay nodded. “I'm pretty sure he either reads from a different bible than I do, or else he's really taking a loose interpretation of the good book. He sounds like one of those creepy end times preachers.”
“Someone like that could whip a mob into a frenzy without much effort,” Gordon observed. “Especially in times like this.”
“Absolutely,” Clay agreed. “As if we didn't have enough to worry over as it is.”
“Did you find anything else about our recent visitors?” Gordon asked.
“Not a thing,” Clay shook his head. “No information on them at all. Holman may have hired them or they might have come up here on their own. No way of knowing. For all we know someone else altogether hired them to try and take the farm for themselves.”
“We're not the only farm around,” Gordon scoffed.
“We might be the only one still operating on any kind of sizable level,” Clay countered. “While there may be other farms still operating, what are the odds they still have the working equipment to put in a full crop like we have and the ability to defend it from someone trying to take it?”
“That is a good point,” Gordon sighed. “This is a lot more difficult that I imagined, and I had imagined it being pretty difficult.”
“I told you before this started what we had to do,” Clay nodded. “The problems we're encountering right now, revenge from your old pal notwithstanding, are because people didn't want to listen.”
“I know,” his father surprised him by agreeing, nodding slowly. “We thought it the right thing to do at the time. From a Christian standpoint it was the right thing to do, feeding the hungry and caring for those in need.”
Clay didn't say more, knowing it wasn't of any use or profit. What was done was now done, and talking about it or condemning anyone for it would not undo the damage.
“We're going to have be extra careful now,” he said instead,
standing. “I don't know where this guy is, but we’ll keep monitoring his broadcasts so long as we can hear him. Meanwhile, we could be facing a new threat with this bunch that tried to hit us earlier. It bothers me that not one of you knows a single one of them. Out of all the people who live here now, the local people I mean, someone should have known at least one of them.”
“You're a local, Clayton,” Gordon said, frowning.
“I was,” Clay clarified. “I haven't been for a long time. Outside of a few people like Jake and Greg I don't remember many people at all, and we've seen how well people remember me. Other than for Lorrie's,” he added with a grimace.
Gordon didn't bother to contradict him since it was fairly accurate.
-
It took a week of solid effort to finish all the upgrades to their defenses. The 'wings' on the water tank at the cabin area looked strange to say the least, but they also looked as if though they would be effective. The platform above the tank was more impressive, being larger than the tower above the Sanders' homes and even more solidly constructed. Lessons learned from that first tower had gone into the building of this new platform. Double walled construction with six inches of dirt between the logs on the outside and the newly cut two-by-four boards on the inside. Solid four-by-four posts at the corners and centers to hold the roof solidly in place and add support to the structure. The roof was constructed not only to protect anyone beneath it but also to help keep the elements at bay, with sloping and extended sides that would block sun, rain, snow and other such problems. In winter they would need to add some kind of walls probably as well as a heat source, but that was considered doable. The added weight was offset by adding five new posts, all solid logs, around the base of the water tower with the logs settled into concrete footings to hold them fast.
It had been a lot of work, hard work in fact, but the end result was a strong fortification that made a great observation point as well as shooting platform.
The old platform below the tower was now home to a new weapon, an M240B machine gun. The M240 'B' variant was an older model that was being slowly phased out at the time of the CME, likely why John Barnes had been able to acquire them. Belt-fed and gas-operated, the 240 was considered a 'medium' machine gun, firing a much smaller and lighter 7.62 NATO round as opposed to the heavier Browning M2 'Ma Deuce' in use on the vehicles. As with the heavier 'Big Fifty' rounds, however, the 7.62 round was available in several variants.
Clay had been reluctant to keep introducing automatic weapons due to their tendency to eat mass amounts of ammunition. For now, that wasn't a concern as one entire trailer and part of another was stacked to the gills with ammunition canisters. Still, what they had was all they had, and once gone there was no real way to replenish it that Clay could think of. Any readily available ammunition stores would have long since been pilfered by now, and in any case acquiring those stores would require a long and dangerous trip, leaving the farm unguarded for at least two or three days. With the tactical situation being what it was now thanks to changes in the original plan, such trips were simply not possible.
Since none of the teen 'soldiers' knew how to operate the M240, only the actual experienced soldiers would man that particular gun. In this case, Vicki Tully would do so as she had experience with the weapon from her time in combat with her parent unit in Iraq and now, through a series of events that Clay did not fully understand, was a resident of the hilltop cabin community.
When not in use the weapon would be stored in its own hard plastic case with ammunition readily available. Eventually they would attempt to qualify at least two of the teens on using the gun, but for now it wasn't a priority. All of them were at least familiar with the M2, so the training was just a matter of familiarity, but it was time they just didn't have at the moment.
There had been lively discussion about placing one of the heavy M2 guns on the platform instead, but the fact that storing it and then taking it from storage to ready it for use would take a great deal more time had been the deciding factor. There was still some unease at the idea of using the lighter weapon, but most were willing to agree it was the best compromise they could reach at the moment.
With the work finally finished, including a new log-lined foxhole/pillbox across the road from Sentry Five and another behind the cabins, the group turned to training the others on the farm. All were given refresher courses on their weapons, mostly to get them in the proper mindset for what was to come, and Patricia gave them all exams before they would be allowed to start the more physical aspects of the training. Olivia Haley was unable to pass the physical due to still being underweight despite the fact that she had been eating well at Angela Sanders' table for weeks now. Dee Talbot was included in the listing but was also unable to pass a physical as she was still malnourished herself, which had left her weakened and susceptible to tiring quickly.
Christina Caudell had been excluded because of her recent delivery and the fact that she was breast feeding. Alicia Tillman was exempt due to pregnancy. Daisy and Jasmine Webb were excluded because of their injuries and partially due to their mental state, while Samuel and Lucas were already out due to their own injuries. John and Seth Webb passed and were assigned to separate training groups, more to make sure John didn't have a disciple around than anything else.
It was decided that the Duo along with Janice Hardy, while officially exempt, would nevertheless participate in the training as much as possible simply for their own protection. Though they wouldn't be called upon to man a defensive position, they might still need to protect themselves and therefore they would be taught how.
There would be two groups. Two rounds of training. The first group would include Lainie Harper, Abby Sanders, Samantha Walters, Beverly Jackson, Martina Sanchez, Ellen Kargay, Amy Mitchell, Teri Hartwell, John Webb and Gary Meecham. They would do physical training in the mornings and classroom training in the afternoon, much as Gordy and his friends had done.
The second group would include Ronny Tillman, Seth Webb, Nathan Caudell, Anthony Goodrum, Marcy George and Jake Sidell. Provisionally added would be Olivia Haley and Dee Talbot, assuming they could pass a physical exam by the time the second class started. Leanne and Leon Tillman and Janice Hardy would also be added to this group, though all three would have to miss parts of it to cover their work in places such as the radio room.
The make-up of the second group was determined by a number of factors, chief among them to allow the crop of sixteen-year-old participants a little more time to mature both physically and mentally. A few months might not mean much usually, but at their age it might mean a great deal. Ronny would be needed to operate machinery while most of the rest of the farm was training and Jake could drive a truck if needed while Ellen was training.
It wasn't perfect by any means, and no one was completely happy with it, but it was still a good plan considering the limitations they had to work with. When all was said and done, it was agreed that it would work, perfect or not.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
-
“Go, go go!” Nate Caudell shouted as the member of group one struggled through the obstacle course. Three of them, Beverly Jackson, Amy Mitchell and Gary Meecham had already dropped out, unable to finish. Meecham was obviously embarrassed, having thought he was in better shape than he was.
Abby had little difficulty getting through, with Lainie right beside her to the surprise of all except for Clay. Ellen Kargay was mere steps behind them and Samantha Walters finished behind them but well ahead of everyone else, also to the surprise of most of the others.
Martina Sanchez was next, followed by John Webb, obviously embarrassed to be shown up by so many women but wise enough not to say anything. Teri Hartwell was the last to finish, but she did finish.
“Pathetic,” Nate Caudell was shaking his head. “Absolutely pathetic. You think this is hard? This is nothing! This is just to get you to where you can make it! Some of you didn't finish at all, and some of you were so close to dropping o
ut I could see you quitting. And too many of you who did finish were way over time. Some of you took twice as long to finish as you were supposed to!”
“Physical prowess is a must in the kind of training you're about to undertake,” Tandi was more subdued but no less hard on them. “In combat, you can't afford to be tired. You can't afford to stop or quit or take a break. Today we are hard on you to see where you are. Some of you are actually doing pretty good all things considered. Others are marginal at best and a few are completely unacceptable. I trust everyone knows which of those lists they belong on without me needing to spell it out.” He waited as heads began nodding, some more reluctant than others.
“We're done for this morning,” Tandi finished. “Go clean up and get lunch. We meet in the class room area in Building Two at thir. . .one o'clock. Bring all your assigned equipment with you. You need to get used to carrying it with you at all times, so start today. That is all.”
The two commandos watched in silence as the trainees trooped away, slowly in some cases and at least one with a noticeable limp. When they were out of earshot, Nate was the first to speak.
“How is it that I get picked to be the heavy in this?” he complained.
“You're the one whose woman isn't going through the training right now,” Tandi replied at once. “Suck it up, Rosy. The rest of us aren't so lucky.”
“Jody ain't got a woman going through,” Nate shot back.
“Don't be so sure,” Clay chuckled, having been silent so far. “He and Abby are talking again. Besides, we want to train them, not terrify them.”
“Point,” Nate sighed. Jody was a great guy to have on your side, but he was not a people person.
“I am in no way disappointed with them,” Clay continued after a few seconds. “I know Beverly, Gary and Amy all fell out, but. . .truthfully I expected all of them to other than Lainie, Abby and Ellen.”
“What about Lainie?” Tandi asked, turning to look at his boss. “I didn't see that coming,” he admitted.
